


Stolen Sweatshirts

by I May Age Regress (shnuffeluv)



Series: Gibbs' Family [28]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Age Play, Bedwetting, Diapers, Gen, Night Terrors, Non-Sexual Age Play, Security blankets that are not actually literal blankets, fluff-ish, security blankets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:03:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shnuffeluv/pseuds/I%20May%20Age%20Regress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gibbs' sweatshirts go missing, and Timmy has a nightmare. Could these two things be connected?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen Sweatshirts

Gibbs didn't mind at first, not really. He went looking for his sweatshirt while he was working in his basement, and it wasn't where he left it. That wasn't a problem, since he had another he could use. He was working on some toys that he thought the kids might enjoy playing with, but didn't want them seeing just yet. He walked upstairs, grabbed his other sweatshirt, and got to work. When his phone rang and DiNozzo was on the other end saying they had a case, Gibbs didn't have the time to put everything away, so he threw a tarp over it to be safe and left.

When the case was over, Gibbs came back into the basement, the missing sweatshirt in the back of his mind, but he figured he'd find it later. And find it he did, in a pile of laundry waiting to be washed. A little curious, but he figured he was half-asleep after a case and picked it up, forgetting to put the one he was wearing now downstairs for future use. He tossed it in the machine along with about half the basket and set about washing it. There. Problem solved.

* * *

The next time Gibbs went downstairs to work on the toys, his second sweatshirt was missing. Once wasn't much of a problem, twice was a coincidence. And Gibbs didn't believe in coincidences. He walked upstairs, to where Katie and Tony were occupying themselves while he did some of his grown-up work. He walked over to them. "Have you two seen my sweatshirt? It's cold down in the basement, and Papa wants to keep warm."

Katie and Tony looked at each other, then up at him. Tony shook his head, sucking on his fingers. Katie shrugged. "I haven't seen it, Dad."

That was the problem with having Special Agents as your family. They were excellent liars.

"Well, if you see one of them, could you guys let me know?" Gibbs asked. He was pretty sure they were lying, but he couldn't prove it... _yet_. The two nodded innocently.

There was the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway and Gibbs opened the door to find McGee stepping out of his car, shivering and wet, possibly swearing, since he was muttering and glowering. "Hey, those better not be naughty words," Gibbs warned.

The man's entire demeanor changed when he looked up. "Sorry, Papa," he said sheepishly, hurrying over to get inside and take off his jacket. "There's a storm down the road, didja know?"

"I figured, considering how you're soaked," Gibbs said. He gave Timmy a hug and heard the slight rustle that came with Timmy's Pull-Ups. He was a bad bedwetter, and Gibbs was glad he had already put something on, so he wouldn't have to fight with a cranky and proud genius tonight. "Come on, Papa has to do some adult work tonight, but Katie and Tony are okay on their own already, and I'll be just downstairs in the basement."

Timmy nodded and took off his jacket, going to play with the others. Gibbs closed the door upon coming inside and went down to the basement, still sans sweatshirt. It was cold, but he'd live.

He set the timer he kept in the basement for occasions such as these for one hour, and when it was done he would get the kids ready for bed. He sat down with a collection of small cubes of wood, about 2 inches across each, and grabbed all the tools he needed to emboss the wood. He stamped about half the blocks and sprinkled powder on them, and was cleaning up the excess powder he didn't need when the timer rang. He turned it off and went back upstairs, to find the kids still playing, but clearly nearing the end of their energy. "All, right, bed time for all you kids, Papa's orders."

Tony whined, but Katie and Timmy didn't argue. 7 and 5 year old got up and headed toward their bedroom up the stairs, while Gibbs worked to pick up a limp and whining Tony off the floor. When he got upstairs with Tony both Timmy and Katie were changed into sweatpants and T-shirts, and Gibbs realized he might need to get some extra "little clothes" for when they came over, because one set each wasn't going to cut it. But this wasn't the time. He lay Tony down on the floor and changed him, before putting him in the crib he had made for Tony a while back. Though naturally he couldn't give Tony a crib before Katie and Timmy both got beds themselves, so he had to hold off setting up the bedroom he was planning before Timmy even came into the picture until Timmy arrived and Gibbs had to redesign the room, making the bed he had for Katie into a bunk bed for both of his older kids. Speaking of, he gave them each a good night kiss and tucked them into bed, making sure Katie had Pookie before heading back down to the basement with a baby monitor, just in case. Now, to finish that embossing...

* * *

Gibbs came back to the land of the living from where he was dozing when he heard indistinct yelling coming from the baby monitor. He stood up quickly and ran the steps 2 at a time until he was at the kids' bedroom, ready to rush in, asking what was wrong when he heard muttering amidst the screaming and crying. "Ssh, Timmy, it's okay, it was just a nightmare...It's okay, I've got Papa's sweatshirt right here..." that was Katie's voice.

"Anything I can do?" Tony.

"No, it's okay, Tony, Timmy can't really come over for a hug yet."

Gibbs walked in slowly, looking at all three of his kids. Katie was sitting on the bottom bunk with Timmy curled into her side, sniffling miserably. Katie was holding onto Gibbs' missing sweatshirt, and Timmy was clinging to it for dear life. Across the room, Tony was kneeling over the bars in his crib and watching with concern, but there wasn't much he could do without climbing out. "What's going on?" Gibbs asked.

Katie looked up in surprise. "Dad! Everything's okay, Timmy just had a nightmare."

"Well, yeah, Katie, I heard the screaming over the baby monitor. Is he okay?"

Katie bit her lip and looked Timmy over before shaking her head. "It's usually not this bad, but he won't say what's wrong."

Gibbs nodded and sat on the other side of Timmy. "Hey, kiddo. It's Papa, you're okay. What's wrong?"

Timmy just continued to cry into the sweatshirt he was holding onto. Gibbs frowned and picked the boy up, putting him on his lap. He was soaked. And he clearly wasn't calming down anytime soon. Gibbs stood up and put the boy on his hip. "Tony, go back to sleep. Everything will be fine, I'll take care of it. Katie, I need to ask you some questions, outside, please."

Katie followed Gibbs outside guiltily. Timmy was still crying, though now he wasn't being as loud as he was, he was shaking, and Gibbs had to bite down his rising concern. "You said 'this time,' Katie. You know what I want to hear."

"Timmy's called me before in the middle of the night with nightmares. And I usually talk him down over the phone and he goes to sleep pretty quickly. He's woken up before over here, though not as often," Katie rushed to say as Gibbs' jaw clenched, "And he'll sometimes start to cry. Usually I just do the same thing, and if Tony wakes up he'll offer hugs before Timmy goes back to sleep. Tonight, I don't know, something really scared him."

Gibbs nodded. "You've done great, sweetheart, go back to bed. I'll take care of Timmy. That job never should have fallen to you in the first place."

Katie went back into the bedroom and Gibbs carried Timmy downstairs. "Hey, Timmy. You and me are gonna sit downstairs so we don't worry Katie and Tony more, and when you're ready, you'll tell me what's been going on."

Timmy cried harder, and Gibbs shushed him as they made it to the living room, and Gibbs set Timmy on the couch. "Do you want a fresh Pull-Up? It can't feel good to be soaked," Gibbs offered.

The boy shook his head vehemently. Gibbs was getting more concerned. Timmy always, _always_  wanted to be dry, even if he couldn't always handle it by himself. "Timmy, look at me. Look at Papa, kiddo. You're scaring me."

Timmy looked up slowly, his nose covered in snot with trails sticking to the sweatshirt, and tear tracks streaming down his face. Gibbs winced as he saw the state his sweet, if sometimes sneaky, boy was in, but that just seemed to send Timmy further down into the deep panic he was in. Gibbs stood up from the couch, leaving Timmy but rushing to get a warm, wet cloth as fast as he could. He came back and wiped Timmy's face and nose clean, and took the sweatshirt and cloth and put them aside. "Timmy, what's wrong?"

"I-I-I-I-I'm s-s-s-so-orry P-Papa..." he whimpered. "I-I-I'm s-so s-s-sorry..."

"Kiddo, I don't even know what you're apologizing for," Gibbs said, concerned.

Timmy sniffled and rubbed his eyes before wringing his hands in his lap. He couldn't meet Gibbs' eyes. "I-I m-m-me-mes-ssed u-up th-the c-c-case."

Gibbs had an inkling of what was going on now, there wasn't any case lately that had gone wrong on their end. "Which one?"

"Th-the one w-with the d-d-drug deal a-and the p-p-petty officer. I-I m-messed up, an-and g-got little when I shouldn't have, a-and th-they took me, and you tried to rescue m-me, but th-they shot you, an-and tied me up over a ledge at the drop, and you were dying and-and-and-and..." he broke down in tears again. "I-It's all _my fault_!"

"Timmy, no, kiddo, that never happened. It was just a dream," Gibbs reassured in soft tones. "I'm fine, and you're safe. Nothing happened, I promise."

"B-but...y-y-you go-got hur-hurt, re-real bad..." Timmy rubbed his eyes and sniffed. "I w-was r-really bad..."

"Timothy," Gibbs said sternly. "You were not bad at all. You just had a nightmare, and that happens sometimes. To be honest, I'm more interested in why Katie and Tony would take my sweatshirts of all things for you to use when you get upset, considering you've stopped shaking so much and can talk to me still."

Timmy leaned into Gibbs' side. "Papa always can make nightmares go away. The sweatshirts smell like you," he admitted, embarrassed.

"That's fine," Gibbs said. "I have a compromise, if you're willing to accept it."

Timmy nodded absentmindedly.

"Tony has a baby blanket for when he gets overwhelmed, I won't say where for his sake, but he does. I could get one for you, and keep it here in my basement? That way when it's washed it smells like my detergent and when it's not it will smell like whatever project I'm working on down there. Then, when you need Papa to scare the nightmares away, and you don't want to get me, because I know you're just too shy to get me, you can have that."

Timmy nodded. "I like that."

"Good. Now, there's two more things I need to tell you, since you don't have to worry about stealing my sweatshirts anymore."

Timmy looked up anxiously.

"First: if you get a nightmare when you're alone, or you ever feel little at work, you tell me. Not Kate or Tony, because it's not their job to look after you, it's mine, and it's unfair on them to deal with something they can't handle. That's not to say you can't rely on them if you need them, but you can't go to them _every time_ , and I would like to know as soon as possible. Got that?"

"Yes, Papa," Timmy said.

"Second: I don't care how bad you think you've been, you are _never, ever,_ under _any_  circumstances to deny anything you need to keep you happy and healthy again. That is _not_  okay, whether it's a fresh Pull-Up or a glass of water. That's dangerous, and you _will_  be in trouble if I find out you've been doing that, understood?"

Timmy nodded. "I understand, Papa. I won't."

Gibbs nodded. "Well, then. I think we should get you changed. And after that, if you want, you can sleep in my bed tonight, or you can go back to your room and I can let you use one of my shirts one last time."

Timmy yawned. "I wanna be a big boy tonight."

"Does that mean sleeping by yourself?" Gibbs asked.

Timmy nodded.

"All right," Gibbs said, picking Timmy up and carrying him to the bathroom. "Let's get you ready for bed."

Timmy let Gibbs put him in a fresh Pull-Up and was dozing by the time he was put back in bed. Gibbs went to his room and grabbed an old T-shirt, tucking it by Timmy's face so he would know it was there when he woke up. "Sleep tight, kiddo," he whispered. "Something tells me you're gonna need it."


End file.
